Freshly Brewed
by Bellatrix Kale
Summary: Rolling into a small and usually quiet town on the West Coast, Dean and Sam unexpectedly get themselves caught up in a mess that involves a local coffee shop. -Expect slash & wincest in the future!


A/N: Yet ANOTHER new fic from me. Yeah, I've been a busy busy bee lately. This one was inspired by an in character meme on an LJ RP. Don't wanna spoil too much for the fic but here are some facts you need to know: this is set mid-season five, there will be SLASH and some of the WINCEST VARIETY so if you're not into that you might wanna go find another fic to read, and the rating will most likely go up in the future.

As usual, read, review, and enjoy~!

Chapter 1

Just another town. Another one that could potentially not be around in the future if things kept going south. Sam thought about this the whole car ride as he watched out the passenger side window. A lot of guilt still hung over him for helping kick start the Apocalypse and freeing Lucifer. What was even worse was the fact that he, Sam Winchester, of the billions of people in the world, was chosen to be Lucifer's vessel.

The silence of the car ride gave him room to think, too much room almost. Dean still was aggravated about the news that his brother was supposed to play vessel to Lucifer, but the shock wasn't that big. After all, Dean was Michael's sword; just as Sam was to Lucifer.

By the time the car stopped in front of the motel room, Sam just wanted to get in the room and collapse before his brain worked anymore. All the thinking was making him feel guiltier and all the guilt seemed to be stacking higher and higher.

Nodding to his older brother, Sam got out of the car and made his way to the motel's office to get them a room. It didn't take long. The worst part was running the credit card under the false name that frankly, Sam wasn't all too familiar with yet. Once he had their two room keys in hand, he made his way back to the Impala where Dean was half asleep in the driver's seat.

"Dean, hey, wake up." Waking him was something he wasn't fond of doing, but it had to be done. Sleeping in the car will just make him cranky in the morning.

With a grumble, Dean waved a hand and opened his eyes slowly. "Alright! M'comin'…" Sam turned away from him and started towards their room. Thankfully, it was only a few feet from the Impala and he unlocked the door, holding it open for his drowsy brother. "Dibs on the comfy bed," Dean yawned as he sluggishly made his way into the room.

Sam shut the door and turned to see Dean flop down on the bed farthest from the door. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at his brother before putting his laptop bag down on the table and tugging his shoes off, only to lie down on the other bed. It wasn't that he was tired. It was simply the fact that it was almost midnight and sleeping seemed to be the right thing to do. The younger Winchester drifted off in minutes.

* * *

For once, Dean was first to wake up. He guessed it was because Sam never shut the curtains and the sun was blaring in his eyes the second they cracked open. With a grumble, he sat up and pushed the covers back from his bed. Dean could barely remember ever getting under them, but he was dead tired. It wasn't much of a surprise.

He looked over at Sam, only to see he was out like a light. His hair was basically shielding his eyes from the sun, letting him stay peacefully curled up under the sheets. Dean was only a little bit jealous.

Dean went in the bathroom for a shower and everything else before Sam woke up, seeing as how he could be such a girl and take hours in the bathroom. He couldn't figure out why. Dean guessed it was the long hair. He kept telling him to get it cut…

By the time he walked back into the room with a towel around his waist and a few water droplets dripping down him and onto the floor, Sam was up. He was already on his laptop, assumedly looking for cases. "Bathroom's all yours princess," Dean quipped as he opened his backpack for a clean set of clothes.

He didn't need to look at Sam to know he rolled his eyes, or possibly shot him a bitch face. It was what he did. Just like how Dean would flip him off over his shoulder.

"Jerk," Sam muttered under his breath as he got up and grabbed his backpack before heading into the bathroom.

There was something else he knew would happen. It did every time. "Bitch!" Dean called. He got dressed and grabbed his jacket before moving over to the closed bathroom door. "Sammy, I'm goin' to get us some breakfast. Don't slip or nothin'." Turning and making his way over to the door, Dean left the room and hopped into the Impala, firing up his car before pulling out of the parking lot.

* * *

He pulled into a little café and got out. It was a privately owned coffee shop in town, not one of those high class, ritzy Starbucks or something. There were a few people outside, since it was spring and the weather was actually cooperating for once. Dean went in, only to be greeted by a grinning woman who gave him a big hug.

"Hi! Welcome to Rita's!" she cheerfully said.

As soon as she let go, Dean gave a small smirk and looked her over. Blonde, tall, not bad looking for a small town, and clearly liking him. Unless she greeted everyone like this. Dean could only hope it wasn't the latter. "Thanks sweetheart."

She giggled and smiled even wider at him. "Counter's right over there if you wanna order." The woman pointed over her shoulder with her hug before pulling Dean into another hug. He hugged back, not one to complain.

"Thanks," he repeated before giving her a nod and making his way to the counter. There wasn't a line, since people seemed to be self serving from a row of pots with colorful rims. The woman behind the counter wasn't as upbeat as the one who greeted him, but she had a warm smile. Her name tag read 'Rita' when he glanced at it. "Hi, um, what's good here?"

Rita glanced over at the colorful pots, brown ponytail whipping slightly as she moved. "Our self serve is pretty hot today. People seem to love it. Unless you're looking for breakfast items, too. 'Cause in that case, we've got doughnuts, paninis, bagels…"

She didn't need to go on, since Dean knew what he wanted. "Four doughnuts to go and two of those self serve coffee things to go." Rita nodded and he paid for the stuff as she sat two lids and cups on the counter. He uttered a thanks as she got the doughnuts for him while he took the cups to the coffee pots.

Dean couldn't help but look at them curiously. They weren't labeled or anything, but he didn't know which were which. He wasn't about to ask and look like an idiot either. So he grabbed a green one and filled a cup, then proceeded to grab the blue pot for the second cup. He figured he'd drink the green one and Sam could have the blue one. It would all work out.

He returned to the counter to pick up the bag of doughnuts and left, headed for his car to get back to the motel.

* * *

Some pent up anger was starting to hit him by the time he got back to the motel room. He wasn't sure why, but Dean just… He felt like he wanted to punch something. Taking another swig of the coffee, he pulled into the parking space in front of the motel room and shut off the Impala. He slammed the door a little along the way and basically stormed over to the door, unlocked it, and slammed it shut behind him.

He put the coffee and small bag of donuts on the table before he sat roughly in the chair beside it. When his eyes went to Sam, who was sitting on the bed with his laptop; he looked shocked.

"What?" Dean grumbled. Except it sounded more like a growl.

Sam shrugged. "Nothing. What's your problem?" He moved his laptop and got up, only to walk over and grab the cup of coffee, then sit down across from him. Taking a sip from the coffee, he furrowed his brow.

He grumbled, a deep scowl planted on his face. "I don't know. I'm just in a bad mood. Didn't sleep right and there's too much shit going on."

After a moment or two of both of them just staring at different spots of the room, Dean heard Sam let out a sigh. One of those really annoying sighs that made him sound like a girl. "Sam, shut the hell up!" he shouted, looking over at his brother. Sam's lips turned down into a frown, almost quivering as if he were upset about something. The only thing Dean could think was 'Dear god, my brother's a friggin' pansy ass who's gonna cry when I yell at him. When did he become two?'

"You don't have to yell all the time Dean…" Sam took another sip of his coffee and left it on the table, only to go curl up in his bed. "I can here you. Loud and clear," he said in a quiet, yet broken tone.

Dean watched, the sight just making him angrier for no reason whatsoever. "You want me to yell, I can!" That time, he really yelled. People in the room next to them would probably hear and bang on the wall if they wanted them to shut up. "I mean, damn. You're so freakin' wimpy. Get over it." He rolled his eyes at Sam and put his cup down, walking into the bathroom and letting the door slam shut behind him.


End file.
